Trust
by Bitter Bathory
Summary: AU: What if the Potters had a different Secret-Keeper? It's not Sirius, or even Remus. In fact, the Secret-Keeper isn't even a wizard.


Trust 

For nearly a year now, James Potter, his wife Lily and their one-year-old son, Harry had been on the run.  For nearly a year now, they had known that Lord Voldemort, easily the worst Dark Wizard known to humanity, had had a stake on their lives.  They were constantly on the move.

Both Lily and James were tiring of their forced nomadic lifestyle.  When the stress became unbearable, James broke down and wrote to Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore, asking for his help, or at least some advice.

Even better than sending an owl in response, Albus had shown up the next morning on the doorstep of their latest home, located in Godric's Hollow.

"Good morning, James," Albus said when James answered the door.

"Oh, er, good morning, Headmaster," James replied, holding the door open with one hand and trying futilely to finger comb his messy black hair with the other.  Albus Dumbledore was a figure that commanded respect, so naturally, the next words out of James' mouth were, "You didn't _have_ to come."

"No?" Albus asked bemusedly.  "Should I leave?"

"No, no, not at all.  Come in."  James stepped aside, beckoning his old headmaster into the modest house.  He scrambled to move baby Harry's stuffed animals off of the couch.

Albus took a seat, and motioned James to do the same.  But the young man was too keyed up to sit down and relax.

"How are you and Lily, James?"

"Alive.  I suppose that counts for something."  James' sense of humor had been one of Voldemort's first victims.

"Yes, I suppose it does."  Albus stopped, sensing that James needed to talk things out.

"It's all this moving, Headmaster--"

"Please, James.  It's Albus."

"Al—no, sorry.  You'll always be Headmaster to me," James said.  "I just can't say it any other way."

Albus smiled.  "Please try."

"Anyway, the moving is getting difficult," James continued.  "I mean, if it was just me and Lily, that'd be something else.  But we have Harry, and I don't know how good this is for him.  Every time we _just _settle somewhere, Voldemort catches wind of our whereabouts.  We're always on the move, and Harry is fussy, and I want to do what's best for him, but I--"  James broke off and sat opposite Albus.

"You feel unable, is that it?"

"Yes."  Before James could elaborate, Harry began crying in the other room.  He smiled weakly.  "I'll be right back."

"Mamamama," burbled Harry hopefully when he saw James.

"Mamamama isn't here right now," James said, lifting his son out of the crib.  Perhaps understanding his father's words, Harry renewed his crying with more intensity.  _Here we go again,_ thought James as he patted and soothed to no avail.  Finally, he brought Harry back out to the main room, still fussing.

Albus stood up.  "May I see the young Mr. Potter?"  Gratefully, James handed the child over.  Under Albus' hypnotic blue gaze, Harry stopped crying.  He even smiled.  Albus wore a matching smile, until Harry reached up and grabbed a fistful of Albus' long, white beard.  "Oh my, what a grip.  No, it's all right," he said, seeing James move to relieve him.  Albus rocked Harry for a few more moments, until he fell asleep.

"Lily can do that, but she's not here right now.  She--"  James looked up as though he just noticed his wife was gone  "—She went to go buy groceries.  We think it might be safer not to use any magic.  And besides, she understands Muggle money, I don't.  She should be back soon."  _God, that sounded so weak.  How can you convey the urgency of the situation, without sounding like some pathetic coward?  It wasn't just Harry's fussing, it was—it was _everything.

Albus nodded, still cradling Harry.  "The matter which I came to speak to you about—perhaps it can wait until Lily returns.  I can keep watch for you, if you'd like to get some sleep."  The bags beneath James' eyes had not gone unnoticed.

"That's all right, Head-Albus.  I couldn't ask that of you."

"You didn't," Albus said firmly.  "I offered.  Lay down, James.  You're nearly dead on your feet."

"Well--"  The offer certainly was tempting.  Besides, Lily would be back soon, so it was only a small catnap.  James laid down on the floor so he wouldn't get too comfortable.

_He hardly needs a Dreamless Sleep potion, he's so worn out_, thought Albus sadly as he watched James fall asleep instantly.  He noticed how the young face (was he really only 20?) didn't quite relax, and how his wand lay within reach.  James' fingers twitched toward the wand at small noises--the neighbor's door slamming, the creaking of the house.  _So young a man, so heavy a responsibility._

***

"James, James, wake up."  Lily knelt on the floor, trying to rouse her sleeping husband.  "James," she said, a little more firmly.  She shook his shoulder.

Reflexively, James grabbed her wrist.  Lily gasped, and James opened his eyes.

"Why'd you let me sleep?" he demanded, noticing the slant of fading light from beneath the drawn shades.  "Lily, don't ever let me do that again!  Don't you realize--"

"Shh.  It's okay.  Albus is here, remember?  He staying for dinner, and then he has a plan for us."

As Lily spoke, James' heartbeat resumed a more normal rate.  _Still_, he chided himself, _if he hadn't been here, I might never have woken up._

Dinner was a crude, simple affair.  Without her wand, Lily was hopeless in the kitchen, so she bought pre-packaged food that only needed to be heated up.  However, when people are running for their lives, they can hardly afford to be choosy about their food.

They ate in silence.  Albus looked calm, as usual, as he chewed his food.  James watched each window and the door out of the corner of his eye, barely looking at his plate or fork.

"Dear, you're making worse of a mess than Harry," scolded Lily gently.  She was holding her son on her lap, feeding him small mouthfuls off of her plate.

"Sorry," James said sheepishly.  He paused to push his glasses back up on his nose, and then resumed his vigil, as well as his meal.

"That was most excellent, Lily.  My compliments to the chef," Dumbledore said a little while later, pushing his plate back.

After they had all finished their food, Albus leaned forward and said, in a very business-like tone, "I think I know how we can keep you safe."

"How?" Lily asked, hope creeping at the edges of her voice.

"It's called the Fidelius Charm.  What it does is conceal a secret—in your case, your location—within the soul of another.  As long as the Secret-Keeper remains silent, you will be completely hidden.  Voldemort could come sit down to tea in your sitting room and not be able to find you."

James and Lily were silent as they took this all in.  _Could their days of ceaseless running be over?_

"The only question," continued Albus, "Is who should keep your secret."

"Sirius," James said, automatically.

"Sirius Black?" Albus asked, frowning slightly.  "Are you sure?"

"What about Remus Lupin?" Lily suggested.  She didn't entirely trust Sirius herself.

"I'd trust him with our lives," James said.  "But he wouldn't trust himself."

"Peter, then?" Lily asked.

"No, he's afraid of his own shadow."

"If you wanted to chance a bluff…" Albus began.  He stopped as he saw Lily smooth back Harry's black hair, so like his father's.  No, it was too much of a risk.

"Who else can we trust?" James asked no one in particular.

"I have an idea," Albus said slowly.  "It might work.  Possibly illegal, but I think the circumstances warrant it."  Albus Dumbledore was speaking to himself, working out the details before he spoke them.

James glanced at Lily with a small, daring-to-be-hopeful smile.  She took his hand under the table and squeezed it gently.

"How long," Albus said, speaking to Lily, "Has it been since you spoke to your sister?"

A/N: My first attempt at an alternate universe fic.  Tell me what you think.  As always, I welcome constructive criticism.


End file.
